


Hidden in the Cooking Magazine

by KeepingWTheTimes



Category: Peterick - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1391827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepingWTheTimes/pseuds/KeepingWTheTimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy and Joe find a home-made disk, hidden in the cooking magazine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden in the Cooking Magazine

**Author's Note:**

> Hola mis Amigos. This is my first time writing on here, so please tell me if I have Fucked something up, please... Uh, I'm not sure how many chapters this gonna have, if it even has anymore at all. *Shrugs* I don't know, give me some suggestions and stuff!

“No, no,” Joe said, shaking his head as they stepped up onto the bus. “Andy, you fool, Captain Kirk was so better than Picard.”

   “I’m not starting another fight with you over this Joe, just keep your opinion to yourself.”

   “But-”

   “Do you want another black eye?” Andy asked, looking at him pointedly.

   “Fine, whatever.” Joe huffed, flopping down on the sofa. He started leafing through the magazine pile they kept to the side, picking things up and throwing them back. He grabbed one of the cooking magazines out of pure boredom and was about to start flicking through the pages when something slipped out and landed on his lap. He picked it up, flipping it over to read the message on the other side.

   “ ‘For Meagan and Elisa – Hope you enjoy  ♥.’ It’s Pete’s handwriting.”

   “What is it, a CD?” Andy asked, leaning back against the kitchen side with one of his Vegan Smoothies.

   “Oh God, you don’t think that Pete and Patrick made a mix tape for the girls, do you?” Joe crinkled his nose, opening the packet that the disk was in.

   “Joe, it’s none of our business, just put it back.” Andy rolled his eyes.

   “Oh, come on! I’m dying to see how lame these two are! I wonder what songs they put on it...” Joe stood up and walked into the back bedroom where his laptop was kept. Andy followed, rolling his eyes again but unable to resist the temptation. Joe sat on the bed and started everything up. Andy sat on the edge of the bed and waited silently until everything was ready and the play button was shining in their faces. Joe shot Andy an incredibly smug look before clicking the button and leaning back into the cushions.

   Pete’s face appeared on the screen close up as he played with the camera. When he realised it was working he smiled into it, stepping back. He was in the room of the hotel they had stayed at a couple of days before. He quickly looked at the door before turning back.

   “O.K, so Patrick doesn’t and won’t know about the camera until... After. Obviously, if he wants me to get rid of it, I will, but then he will have to face you two, so I doubt he will,” He grinned a little nervously and rubbed his hands together. The faint, muffled sound of a door closing nearby sounded and Pete pushed the camera further back into the bookcase it was resting on. “He’s coming. Ssssh.” He quickly turned the lights down low and flicked on one of the bedside lamps. A quiet knocking sounded just off screen and Pete opened the door to Patrick, who walked in with a small, slightly shy smile on his face.

  

“Uh...” Joe mumbled. “Oh, Pete must be pranking him! This is going to be even better!”

 

   “Hey.” Patrick greeted, sitting down on the big bed and pushing his shoes off before pulling his legs up under him, holding his knees. Pete sat behind him and helped him pull off his leather jacket. Patrick groaned in pain and rubbed the back of his neck, tipping his head forward. Pete’s gaze instantly became concerned.

   “What’s the matter?” He asked, leaning closer. Patrick shrugged.

   “I have been having some serious neck-ache all day. Too much head banging, maybe.” He laughed. Pete hummed unhappily and swatted Patrick’s hand away, tugging his collar down a little.

   “Pete, what are yo- Oh...” He was cut off by his own breathy sigh as Pete massaged his shoulders. He shivered thoroughly as Pete’s thumb pressed into the indent on the back of his neck that he just _loved_. Pete looked at the camera and wiggled his eyebrows before leaning forwards and kissing the spot that his thumb had just inhabited.

 

   “What is going on?!” Joe exclaimed.

   “Ssh.” Andy hushed, looking closer.

   “Andy, what the Fu-”

   “Ssh.”

 

   “Mmmm, no, no,” Patrick tried – not very much, though – to move away but Pete’s hands trickled down to his waist and held him there, sucking on his skin. Patrick’s mouth fell open a little and his eyes closed. “Pete, I don’t know about this.”

   “It’s fine. They said we can, remember?” Pete murmured.

   “Yeah, but what if they were, like, testing us. Elisa can be cryptic like that.” Pete snarled a little and gripped Patrick harder.

   “They weren’t. Meagan was practically begging me to. She wants to watch us one day, you know.” Pete drawled, licking a stripe up his neck. Patrick scoffed.

   “Yeah, because _that_ is gonna happen.” He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

   “Yeah, it is.” Pete whispered, wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist, cuddling in.

   “But I don’t want people seeing me naked.” Patrick pouted. Pete gritted his teeth, letting out a slow breath. He let go of Patrick who turned his head a little just as Pete pushed his fingers into the blonde’s sides, tickling him. Patrick squealed, stretching out suddenly as he tried to wriggle free. Pete was laughing too hard to hold on and Patrick spun around and pushed Pete down onto the bed, pouting again.

   “Do not ever tell anyone about the noise I just made.” He grumbled, his deep voice serious and childish at the same time. Pete’s smile became smug.

   “No, but I’ll be telling them about the other noises you’re gonna make.” Patrick instantly flushed but it only lasted a moment as Pete jumped up and started tickling him once more. Patrick didn’t squeal this time but his clear, bell-like laughter rang out loudly. Pete flipped them over, pinning Patrick’s hips down and sitting in his lap. Patrick’s laugh turned into a sudden harsh moan as Pete rocked his hips up. Patrick gripped the Bassist’s legs, leaning his head back against the mattress. Pete grinned and leaned over the other, bracing his elbows next to Patrick’s head as he started to rhythmically rock into him.

 

   Andy and Joe couldn’t stop watching, they were entranced.

 

   “Patrick... You are just so cute.” Pete mouthed against his cheek before moving in and gently kissing him. Patrick’s hands slid up to Pete’s shoulders and he held on for dear life.

   “Pete...” The Singer opened his eyes and looked up at the other. They just laid there for a while, watching each other carefully, turquoise eyes meeting brown. Then Patrick’s fingers skimmed over Pete’s collar bone and back down to his hips where he gripped Peter’s shirt, tugging at it with a playful look in his eye. The brunette grinned, placing his hands over the other’s and sitting up to pull it over his head. Patrick chuckled.

   “What?” Pete whined, his bottom lip jutting out.

   “You take your shirt off like a girl.” Patrick mumbled, pulling Pete back down by the neck and taking his bottom lip into his mouth. Pete hummed happily and resumed his previous movements, slipping his hand under ‘Trick’s button-down. The Blonde’s own hands began to roam, up and down Pete’s chest, lightly plucking and scraping through the thin trail of hair that trickled down into the waistline of his jeans. Pete was undoing the buttons under his fingers when Patrick moved his mouth down to the Bassist’s chin, crossing his jaw and nibbling on his earlobe before caressing his throat with his lips. Pete was paused in his motions. His mouth fell open and he let his head fall forward. He had forgotten how great Patrick’s mouth felt against his skin. ‘The mouth of a professional Porn Star’ he used to say in between pants and moans, with the blonde’s mouth moving all over his body in all the best ways. That was years ago, when they were only just tanning in the light of fame and Patrick was small and cute and so, so perfectly ginger that it hurt him a little that the colour grew out after he dyed it.

   Pete was shaken out of his reverie when Patrick started to remove his shirt himself, and he only realised that his hips had stopped moving when Patrick took matters into his own hands and slowly began to thrust up into him. His shirt fell open, revealing his bare torso, and Pete could only stare. He had lost the weight – Which he gained when he split up with his ex and lost his dog – but he had built more up in muscle. He wasn’t ripped, but he had become lean and hard and strong and Pete could see his stomach muscles flex every time his hips lifted.

   “Wow...” Pete whispered, pressing his hand into Patrick’s stomach and reveling in the feeling of it moving against his palm.

   “What?” Patrick asked, cocking his head to the side a little. His breath was coming in little pants and his hat was crooked, but still on his head.

   “It’s just... I haven’t, like, seen you in ages and you've...” Pete cleared his throat.

   “Oh, yeah, that. When I lost all the weight I started working out to help keep it off and... I just became a little more lean,” Patrick shrugged, but a smirk soon crawled onto his face. “Is it making you uncomfortable?” Pete leaned down close to Patrick’s face and pressed his mouth into the blonde hair above his ear.

   “You always make me uncomfortable,” his hand wandered down to the Singer’s zipper and he started to slowly tease it open. Patrick let out a long, sweet breath, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “And it has been a while since I’ve been able to grab you by the ass and make you feel uncomfortable too. But don’t worry, it the good kind of discomfort,” Patrick button was flicked off. With a little help, the black denim was shimmied off his pale legs. Pete gave a breathy laugh at the navy and white striped underwear. “They look good on you, but I think that they’ll look better on my floor.” Patrick moaned, long and loud and practically writhed under his dark friend.

   “This... This isn’t your floor. It’s the hotel room.” Patrick said, opening one eye to look up. Pete’s grin only grew.

   “Exactly.” He murmured. Patrick stared as Pete slipped his own belt out of the loops and let it fall to the floor before tugging his – moderately less skinny than they used to be – skinny jeans off.

   “Oh, so you actually wear underwear now?” Patrick asked, smiling when Pete scowled. The blonde laughed as Pete swat at him but it melted into a pleased groan as they were pushed together once more.

   “What can I say..? I felt sorry for you, spending all of your time staring at my crotch. I was just trying to help you out.”

   “You can help me more,” Patrick slipped his fingers into the elastic of Pete’s dark Boxers. “By taking them off.” Pete agreed immediately, letting Patrick’s hands guide the last of his clothing off. He returned the favour before pressing them back together, skin to skin and Pete’s hiss to Patrick’s Baritone moans. Goosebumps rose on Patrick’s more delicate skin and Pete paused for a moment to grasp the thin white sheet and pull it over them. They were stunning. Patrick’s smooth, milky pastures against Pete’s own tanned ones, framed be white satin.

   “Mmmm, Pete, I thought that we were gonna have sex. We aren’t teenagers anymore, we can’t just rub off on each other. Come on, I thought you wanted to, what did you say? ‘Take me by the ass and make me feel uncomfortable’? What are you waiting for?” Pete made a muffed sound, his face buried in the Singer’s neck.

   “You sure? I mean... It’s been a while since you...”

   “How do you know?” Patrick scoffed. Pete leaned back and looked down at the blonde in shock. “I was joking.”

   “Do you really want to?” Pete asked, scratching at Patrick’s much, much smaller but still-just-there sideburns.

   “Yes.” ‘Trick said simply, pushing up to press his mouth over Pete’s. Pete revelled in his soft, wet lips before moving up the bed and opening the bedside draw, pulling out the things he had prepared earlier. Patrick had gotten up onto his elbows and was watching the other’s motions, the tight muscles in his back working under tan skin. Pete leaned back over his friend as he slicked up a couple of fingers. Patrick relaxed back and placed one hand on his stomach and the other under his head. He nearly ripped a chunk out of his hair as one of Pete’s fingers slipped inside. It wasn’t long until Pete’s hips were jutting against Patrick’s, gently at first, but picking up speed as the room became hotter. The noises that Patrick made were ecstasy, and his sex face was gorgeous, all bared teeth, open mouthed, sharp cheek bones and panting. Pete kept his forehead pressed up against Patrick’s the whole time, their sweat slick between them, chests meeting every now and then. Patrick kept up a perfect middle C most of the time, but whenever the little bundle of nerves was hit inside him it would shoot up to a high C and stay there for while. Pete kept up as much of a slow pace as he could but as time progressed Patrick became desperate for friction and started to thrust his hips up to meet the other’s.

   “’Trick,” Pete murmured, mouth open against his temple. “I miss missing you.”

   “I missed you,” Patrick replied, gripping Pete’s shoulders. “Seriously, Peter, I really missed you.” The last words came out in a whispered rush as lava pooled in his stomach, thick and warm.

   “You will never have to miss me again.” Pete whispered. And with that Patrick tipped his head back, crying out as he came between them. Pete sucked on his neck and shook, groaning as quietly as he could as he also climaxed, listening to the sweet sounds Patrick made. He whined and breathed heavily as he slowly came down from his high, his eyes blinking open and taking a while to focus.

   “Fuck, Dude, you actually blinded me with an orgasm.” Patrick panted, noticing that his fingers had twined through dark hair and gripped.

   “Well, you know me.” Pete smirked, getting up onto his elbows and looking down at the Blonde beauty below him.

   “Mmmm. My throat hurts. Get me a drink? Preferably Gin.” Patrick winked shoving at Pete’s chest. The Bassist rolled his eyes and slipped off the bed, grabbing what turned out to be Patrick’s boxers and slipping them on. He grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and tried his hardest to ignore Patrick’s puppy eyes.

   “Show tomorrow. No alcohol. Damages voice.”

   “Talking about damaging things, have I given you brain damage or are you having an aneurism?” Patrick asked, sitting up and taking a big drink of the water. Pete walked up to the camera and grabbed it, checking that it had actually been recording the whole time.

   “Pete... What is that?” Patrick leaned to the side and looked over the bassists shoulder. “Is that – Pete you Fuck!” Patrick jumped up, the sheet wrapped around his waist, dragging behind him.

   “Whoa, hey, wait! Before you hit me, let me tell you that Meagan and Elisa asked me to film it! And if you hit me I WON’T BE PRETTY ANYMORE!” Pete covered his head with arms but Patrick didn’t lash out. Pete peaked through his fingers and saw that Patrick’s face was impassive.

   “Dude, they asked me to as well, but I was actually gonna ask you if you wanted to when I first came in, but you were all massages and tickles and-” Pete cut him off by tipping forwards on his toes and pressing the most chaste kiss to Patrick’s lips as he could.

   “I don’t miss missing you. I hated missing you.” That’s when the screen went black and the video finished.

 

   Joe and Andy sat there, leaning against the thin wall, traumatised.

   “Oh... Oh, I think I’m gonna puke.” Joe mumbled, putting a shaky hand over his mouth. A moment later they heard the bus door open and the laughter of their Singer and Bassist filtering through to them. Andy and Joe scrambled up and shot out of the small bedroom and into the living room. Patrick shot them a weird look but brushed it off and sat on the sofa. Joe just... He couldn’t comprehend anything.

   “Joe? Man, are you alright? You’ve gone a little green...” Patrick asked, looking concerned, but Joe couldn’t shake the sight of him writhing and bucking underneath his best friend.

   “I, um, I am gonna go and lay down.” He whispered, stumbling off in the opposite direction to his laptop and crawling into his bunk.

   “I can’t find it.” Pete said, re-emerging from the kitchenette where he had previously been rooting around.

   “Can’t find what?” Andy asked, trying to keep his voice level.

   “Bronx’s Marvel cup, he said that he left it in here,” Pete thought for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Oh, yeah, it’s in the bedroom.” Andy stepped in front of Pete before he could go any further and smiled.

   “Uh, I’ll get it for you.” Pete frowned in confusion as his Drummer shot into the small bedroom. Andy grabbed Joe’s laptop, manually turned it off and slammed the lid down, grabbing it and the small cup before leaving the room, hoping that he will never have to go back in there, ever again.

   “There you go.” Pete caught the thrown object and Andy forced Joe to take the laptop with a couple of harsh looks.

   “What is with you Guys?” Patrick laughed, passing Pete one of the Marvel Mini-magazines to take to Bronx. Andy’s eyes focused on the cooking magazine, which was on top of the pile where as it used to be at the bottom. Neither Patrick or Pete seemed to notice and carried on with what they were doing with their lives. Joe went for a walk after a while and Andy went for an early practice and sound check.

   Pete dropped onto the seat next to Patrick, lifting the Blonde’s legs and dropping them onto his lap and grabbing his latest book as Patrick watched old re-runs of friends, just like always.


End file.
